Unforgettable
by Scarlet Warhawk
Summary: A fight between a wrathful apparition of iron and fire and a hollow youth of light and wind takes place in an illusionary station drifting through the space between the worlds. The memories are soon to be claimed by fate and obscurity, but–for the brief time it lasts–it will be unforgettable.


**Title:** ** _'Unforgettable'_**

 **Description:** ** _With his dark half's ominous threat leaving Ventus's resolve shaken, the young Keyblade wielder searches for the sparks of battle to rekindle his determination. A fight between a wrathful apparition of iron and fire and a hollow youth of light and wind takes place in an illusionary station drifting through the space between the worlds. The memories are soon to be claimed by fate and obscurity, but–for the brief time it lasts–it will be u_** ** _nforgettable._**

 **Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of the Kingdom Hearts series.**

* * *

Starlight–the luminescence of a thousand different worlds–flickered by at incredible speeds. Ventus urged his glider to fly faster, to soar through the empty space more swiftly, to bear him to his death with greater haste. Behind his tinted visor the young keyblade wielder hissed in pain, his head throbbing. His mind felt ripped raw from the forgotten memories that had been reawakened by the boy-with-the-mask moments before he had uttered his soul-chilling parting words.

 _"Fine. Then I'll give you a reason to fight..."_

He could still hear the darkness-sustained remnant's voice echoing through his mind like the whispers an evil wind. Cruel, harsh, and mocking, disturbingly _human_ for such an alien mask. It scared him at his core–the thought that beneath that mirrored helm he would see yet another reflection staring back at him.

 _"Come and find me... at the one and only place to spawn the χ-blade;"_

His arms–clad in enchanted armour–trembled and the nose of his vessel wavered unsteadily, threatening to tip him off. Ventus shook his head in an effort to clear it of Vanitas's voice.

 _"the Keyblade Graveyard."_

Metal-plated fingers curled into shaking fists as the youth gritted his teeth together harshly.

 _"There-"_

"No," Ventus growled, squeezing his eyes shut tightly as his glider's flight slowed to a crawl. "Stop." His hands came up and covered his ears in an effort to block out the words.

 _"-you're gonna see me choke the life-"_

Images flashed through his mind's eye: His second encounter with the agent of darkness–their first fight. His strength had been overwhelming, his movements too swift for Ventus to even track. Icy agony erupting from each place the half-cog blade of the corrupted weapon bit through his flesh. It had been too much, too fast.

 _"-out of Terra-"_

The back of a tall, noble-looking young man, emanating raw darkness that wafted from him like a cloak of evil, blade raised as he struggled desperately to protect Ventus from deadly spears of light sprouting from the tip of a white-robed man's weapon.

 _"-and Aqua."_

A graceful young woman brought to the point of fighting back tears as frosty words loosed from his own tongue froze her zeal and cut deep, painful gashes into her pride.

He saw the form of Vanitas superimposed on his vision. The black-and-red-clad boy held his strange keyblade, offering his hand to Ventus from the shallows of a picturesque beach as the light of a phantom sun was reflected in his mask. Behind him, an ominous-looking wave swelled and advanced. The blonde youth snarled and charged the apparition just as the wave reached them both. Then water became wind and the storm turned to dust and bits of stone that pushed him back and forced him to shield his eyes. When he looked again the sun's white light was gone, replaced by the blood red glow of a smoldering flame. The waves had become a barren, ruined wasteland. Everywhere–as far as Ventus could see–were corpses. Clad in regal armour and clutching exotic and unusually-shaped weapons. The fallen keyblade wielders. Closest to him, he saw two suits that bore the familiar designs of those worn by his two closest friends, the metallic blue-violet of Aqua's and the bronzed crimson-gold of Terra's. Mickey's small form lay broken and discarded like a doll that a child had grown bored of playing with, and a set of radiant white and gold regalia held the achingly familiar weapon of his master, Eraqus, in slackened fingers.

 _"Then we'll see how long you play the pacifist."_

Vanitas stood amidst the horrifying scene with his arm still outstretched, beckoning Ventus to join him, and the blue-eyed boy saw his own distorted expression stare back. Then the reflection grinned cruelly, raising his weapon as if to plunge it into his own heart.

Ventus gasped and clutched at his armoured chest, the phantom pain of the imagined impalement quickly fading. His breathing was harsh and ragged and far too fast as his heart raced wildly. Tears were prickling at the corners of his eyes. As he blinked them away angrily, his attention drifted off to one side and he caught sight of something floating at the edge of his vision.

The Mirage Arena.

Memories flashed through his mind like the reel of a runaway film: endless battles spent within the strange station's domed battleground with only his armour and his Keyblade, carving a bloody path through hordes of the Unversed. A years' worth of training, compounded into mere hours by the heat of life-or-death combat. The roar of battle... he needed to fight. He needed to feel the pulse of adrenaline coursing through him, the mental clarity that came with danger. His body moved on autopilot, guiding his glider towards the strange construct. He had learned that while inside hours became as mere seconds. Wars had been waged within the revolving spheres and the worlds would never know. In a daze he disembarked, allowing himself to pass through the entrance in a rush of light and a trill of beeps. As if sensing his intention, the strange machines of the construct hummed and flickered, a glowing circle appearing on a depression in the floor. Without even a moment's hesitation, Ventus stepped into it. There was a high trill, and then he felt the world go white.

Emerging from the light of the teleportation, Ventus' eyes fell on a group of Unversed, staggering and brandishing claws menacingly. In a rush of pure light and a few scattered feathers, he found his fingers closing around the cool grip of his keyblade. Solid and reassuring and _real_. Giving the weapon a twirl, the boy launched himself at the creatures. A roll brought him to the center of the pack, and the monsters found themselves too slow to leap clear of his spiraling blade. With silent screams, they convulsed and dissolved into blue mist. The sound of space warping drew his attention as more took their places, the azure shapes of the small, birdlike Flood and the steely blue-grey of the lumbering Bruisers. Red eyes flashed and the creatures swarmed him from all sides. Ventus's free hand rose, gloved palm facing upwards. A voice drifted past his lips, echoing out from his helm an effortless monotone.

"Tornado."

Chaos. An emerald wind surged around the child in a violent storm. The attackers closest to the boy were vaporized by the initial shockwave while the rest were denied such an end. It was if each being was seized by the invisible hand of a howling spirit and flung into the air to be torn to shreds by the rampaging breeze. A third wave of creatures emerged from thin air to replace them and they swiftly joined their siblings, tinting the whirlwind dark blue with their dissolving remains. The spell finally died down, leaving Ventus the sole remaining inhabitant.

It would not last, as yet more Unversed dragged themselves through tears in space to assault him with sheer numbers. With each group that appeared the wind knight found himself harder pressed to drive them back. No longer were the primordial beings dismissed by a single strike of the Lost Memory; where once his keyblade had rent semi-corporeal flesh like softened butter he was now forced to carve the sombre-looking weapon through the monstrous creatures again and again to bring them down. He could see the limitless anger that seethed like pools of liquid ruby in their featureless crimson gazes, hear the noiseless screams as they felt their end once again overtake them. In them, Ventus could identify rage and sorrow and spite and misery but no fear. Creatures that barely existed, that could hardly grasp the notion of their _being_ could not fear termination. No, fear was a _human_ emotion. Like loss. Or grief.

 _"Or cowardice?"_

Agony bloomed behind the youth's eyes like a red flower as the oily voice hissed in his mind. His hand faltered momentarily and he found his weapon sparking harmlessly against the bronze buckler of an armoured Unversed. The monster wasted no time and slammed its chest into him violently, a hit that sent him tumbling. His armour clattered against the floor as he tried to slow his roll, while also attempting to block out the mocking drawl and the pain it sent lancing through his skull.

 _"Does that make you better then them?"_

As Ventus rose to his feet, he felt something crash into him from behind, nearly sending him sprawling. Whirling around, the boy managed to deflect the second of the Buckle Bruiser's shields as it spun towards him, but felt a metal-reinforced punch catch him in the side as yet another bronze-clad enemies knocked him off his feet. He didn't give it the time to catch the metal disc, aiming the Lost Memory as soon as he flipped to his feet and sending an orb of angry orange fire straight into the thick of his Fission Firaga exploded amongst the group, slaying all but one of the hulking creatures. His head pounding, Ventus bit back a curse and instead launched his nimble body towards his foe. Deftly sidestepping a wild punch, Ventus slid to the ground, legs exploding out like a spring as he brought his keyblade to bear against a quickly-raised shield. Seeing the brute's counterattack before it could land, the youth pushed off, backflipping once and then angling himself down and calling up the familiar sensation of weightlessness that brought him soaring towards and around the Buckle Bruiser in a swooping dive, sword flashing out and cutting through it as he slid to the ground. His breath came heavily and his head felt as if it were splitting apart. Hissing, Ventus fought the urge to sink to his knees. A low, guttural bark came from above. The boy _heard_ the punch before he felt it–a dull 'whoosh' as the massive fist drove into him and launched him backwards. The world spun violently as he flew and skipped on the ground once... twice... and then felt it come to a jarring stop as he slammed brutally into the invisible barrier of the dome. Ventus fell to the ground, heard heavy thuds approaching, but could barely muster the force of will to stay conscious between the pain in his head, the ache all over his body, and the air he gasped for desperately. A massive hand closed around the boy's torso and he felt himself being lifted up and then slammed back down violently. He felt a wave of fresh agony and looked up to see the onyx face of a Wild Bruiser–expressionless save for two jagged red eyes–staring down at him. Looming up behind it were five more of its brethren, who advanced like towering monoliths. When he heard the voice of Vanitas speak again, it seemed to echo from each and every one of them.

 _"Or is it just another weakness?"_

The monster in front slammed a hand down on Ventus's chest viciously, pinning him where he lay as it leaned in. The voice had reached a crescendo now, roaring in his mind with the same spiteful arrogance draped over barely-restrained malice.

 _"You worthless_ _sycophant,"_ the voice of Vanitas spat. _"Running away from your destiny for fake friendships? Pathetic."_

Something snapped within Ventus. Anger–raw and pure–flooded through his veins to replace the pain. His face contorted into a rictus of hate and he forced his keyblade upwards. Feral growls of effort escaped him as he fought against the beast's grip and drove the weapon point-first into its chest. Blue smoke and violet liquid trickled from the wound. He could still feel the frigid voice and its icy words– _"...weak, worthless, pathetic..."_ –but now he had something else. Something stronger than the sense of powerlessness that chilled his insides: rage. A fire had been lit, burning with a heat that eclipsed everything else. And it would not be denied.

"How... _dare_... you..." he hissed from behind his helm's visor, every muscle tense and quivering with unbridled fury as the words bubbled up through his lips between ragged gasps. The tip of his keyblade glowed with a bright light that grew steadily stronger, a blazing heat igniting that seared his face and began to bubble the purple ichor of the ape-like beast. The power was hard to look at now, a brilliant point of light and fire that was beginning to melt and scorch the Unversed holding him " _HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT MY FRIENDS LIKE THAT?!_ " As he screamed, the boy forced his magic into the spell. The next instant, the Mega Flare erupted with the fearsome radiance of an infant star, consuming the forms of the Unversed and blotting out everything in a white-hot nova. When the dancing spots finally receded, Ventus was left to haul his aching body to his feet, trembling unsteadily with rage and exhaustion. The arena was silent.

Then a dull whooshing noise reached Ventus's ears and an imposing figure faded into view before him. It was enormous, with its lower body encased in a massive shackle, ruby chains lashing its arms to its chest, and a horned iron helmet over its face, glowing crimson eyes staring back at him. Before the keyblade knight's eyes, the being's form trembled and strained, the links of the red chains creaking and cracking before they shattered entirely. The air became warm as a flickering haze of orange power surrounded the Iron Imprisoner, and sparks began to fly. It twisted and the metal shackle began to bend and warp, an armoured leg tearing out from its confines, followed by another. The prison was cast away, disintegrating into smoke as the burning aura around the Imprisoner flared up, a blast of hot, blistering wind staggered Ventus as the creature allowed its power to climb ever higher. It fixed the boy with a hateful glower, floating into the air as a column of flames erupted in its palm and became an enormous hammer.

 _"Futile,"_ came the sneering voice. _"Give up now, and spare yourself the beating."_ To that, Ventus had only one thing to say.

"Faith!" At the wind knight's command, pillars of light stretched up from the ground in explosions of radiance. Bathing the young warrior in their pure glow, they spun around him before spiralling out and slamming into the Unversed's raised guard, pushing it back slightly before it was batted away.

Immediately, the entity took a savage strike to the shoulder, courtesy of a fully restored Ventus. The child twisted and twirled, carried on the wind like a dervish as he wove around the blazing strikes of the Unversed's hammer and slashed at the monster, opening chinks and cracks in its armour. With a cry, Ventus leaped high the air and hurled his keyblade downwards, only to find himself brutally smashed against the roof of the dome by a blast of raw power, keyblade tumbling out of his hand and across the arena floor. As he fell, the boy angled himself into corkscrew dive, just barely avoiding a sweep of the Imprisoner's weapon as it crashed against the side of the arena in a blast of pure heat. Ventus was forced to take a diving roll to avoid a second such strike from driving him into the floor, the shockwave launching him away. Using the short time he had to recover while the Iron Imprisoner conjured a burning cage, he summoned the Lost Memory back into his hand and quickly cast Curaga. the gentle chime of bells filling his ears and warm green light soothed the pain of his wounds.

Tensing, the boy sprang off of the ground to hover in the air as the Unversed's cage erupted from the floor beneath him and slammed shut. The alarms in Ventus's head went off when he could not spot the Imprisoner, only for a red-hot iron grip to close around his armoured ankle and yank him out of the sky, smashing him down and then forcing him to block a brutal strike from the creature's hammer which still sent him flying. Before he had even travelled halfway across the arena, a kick crashed into his back, driving him back the way he'd just come and straight into the path a raging vortex of fire and steel. Ventus crashed to the ground, every part of his body consumed with pain even as his reflexes took over and he launched himself clear of a deadly hammer blow. A hastily-cast Faith drove the goliath back as Ventus faced down the Unversed, which floated into the air above him.

 _"Now_ _you see, Ventus,"_ Vanitas's voice echoed spitefully. _"What I am; what you could_ never _be; what together we must transcend_!" The phantom laughed, laughed like a starved animal in bottomless rage, overwhelming might and pure agony. The Imprisoner lowered its hammer, reaching a hand out mechanically to the boy below as flames cloaked its form.

 _"Join us, Ventus!"_ the dark half threatened. _"Join us or you will BURN!"_ Ventus's eyes narrowed as he focussed on the Unversed, everything else dimming. A miniature blizzard surrounded his body as he burst into motion, rocketing towards the creature like a comet. Back and forth, up and down he flashed, icy cloak of his Shotlock biting deep into the iron skin of the Imprisoner.

"I." Ventus roared, forcing himself to move faster, to cut deeper, to fight harder.

He thought about how far he'd travelled.

"Will."

He thought about what he had lost.

" _Never_."

He thought about the people he'd met, the hearts he'd touched.

" _Give_."

He thought about the little boy who had shared his light with a broken soul.

" _Up_."

He thought about why he was here.

" _On!_ "

 _'Aqua... Terra... Don't worry...'_

" _My!_ "

 ** _'...I will set this right.'_**

 _"FRIENDS!"_

Shards of ice stabbed, slashed and pummeled the Imprisoner as Ventus flickered through the air around it. The wind howled to the dance of his sable sword as it tore deep furrows into the monster. Lightning crackled and flashed, Thunder spells descended in a barrage of brilliant golden bolts. Enshrouded by the storm, surrounded by violence, the boy let a wordless scream escape his throat to match the one in his head. Light and Darkness clashed within while wind and fire danced without, throwing their world into chaos and fury.

And then the Iron Imprisoner began to roar; a harsh metallic grating that chilled Ventus's soul. Vanitas screamed and spat, but Ventus could feel him slipping away. His dark half's influence was being forced from the arena by a power greater and more terrible than his own. It was vast and mortal and as bright and intense as the sun itself. And turning around, Ventus beheld its source.

The Iron Imprisoner had shattered the shackles on its wrists and now tore its helm from its head, crushing the piece of steel armour in its fist with contemptuous ease. It hissed and bubbled, metal glowing and dripping like glowing orange water before vanishing into black smoke and a brief gout of flame. And the instant that it did, the world erupted into fire. The air itself ignited and cast everything in a dark, hellish red. The entity... no... the _force_ before him was cloaked in a roaring corona of power that did not smolder or flicker or even burn. It was clad in an _inferno_ , pure and simple. The living act of metal and power that once had been known as the Iron Imprisoner was glowing with fire incarnate. Char-black was the colour that adorned its carapace, crimson greaves splashing its wrists the color of blood. Violence and destruction had birthed this, and it would accept no less than such from the world to sustain it. It was beyond a name, beyond light and darkness, and certainly beyond the hollow rage of its creator. It had transcended, and it had become an avatar of blood and fire and steel. As it stared down at the spirit of light and wind, it gave no hint of anything other than power and intent, save for that moment of silence. But in that instant, the closest word that could describe what it was would be 'thankful.' The force that had once been the Iron Imprisoner was forged of deep-seated negativity, but not of darkness. It was a spark of the same power that a old madman sought a world away, that a young fool would not reach until it was too late, that years later a hollow trio would loose their lives and happiness but for, and that a silver-haired boy would one day finally lay claim to. A power coloured scarlet and gold. Not the hatred that boiled in Darkness, no.

It was the rage of the Light.

The instant passed and the fire raged and the storm howled as two fleeting powers came together in violence and completion.

Both of them knew–somewhere deep in their souls–that each was doomed to fade into obscurity. They were footnotes in the prologue of a grand tale; their story had already been told and their meeting consigned to crumble under the weight of silence.

But in that place–on that station, hanging in the space between worlds–they were both fulfilled by one fact.

Their battle, for the brief time that it lasted...

...would be unforgettable.

* * *

 **The idea for this came to me while playing the Iron Imprisoner IV fight in Birth by Sleep and reading his Journal description. I thought about what it meant, and why something so strong would be locked away by Vanitas. If you hadn't guessed, the title and the story itself is a reference to the track _Unforgettable_ from the OST. Give it a listen if you want.**

 **Anyways, thanks for reading. I hope to see you again, and please feel free to drop a review. This is Scarlet Warhawk, signing out. Bye!**

 **–Scarlet Warhawk**


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